


Some Things, We Don't Talk About

by alphagottadonk



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Hugging, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, lots of fluff, sterek, the pack approves, would 'dependent on hugs' be a sufficient tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 19:32:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1238299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphagottadonk/pseuds/alphagottadonk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Stiles gives Derek a hug. A long tight hug. And it becomes a thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Things, We Don't Talk About

Stiles thought about Derek a lot more than was probably healthy, and yeah that sounded pretty perverted, but it was completely innocent, tame thoughts. Mostly tame thoughts. The thing was, Derek was a werewolf, and from what Stiles had learned in his time being literally surrounded by wolves, they craved contact.

Their whole ‘strength in numbers’ thing was basically a glorified way of saying ‘we like to touch people lots and soak up the closeness like attention starved little puppies’. They were very pack minded, and took a lot of comfort in tactile things. He noticed by the way the hugs between he and Scott increased tenfold after his little wolfy makeover happened.

Not that Stiles minded, because he was pretty touch starved himself, but back to Derek. Derek equaled werewolf, werewolf equaled lots of touching, Derek no touch people like werewolves usually do. And okay, saying he never indulged in physical contact was a bit of an exaggeration because he noticed the way he would sometimes grab for someone’s shoulder to try comforting them when bad things were happening, but that was basically it.

Any time the pack was together, they all devolved into one big mass of bodies, limbs tangled and elbows in places that they shouldn’t be as they watched movies or sat around talking, but Derek was always just off to the side like he should be a watchdog for them, but wasn’t actually allowed into the pile himself.

Stiles kind of hated that, and he thought of doing something all the time, but at the risk of getting his face clawed off, he decided against it. Maybe Derek just wasn’t a fan of touching like most other werewolves. Stiles couldn’t blame the guy for that considering how it seemed like every time he allowed himself such little intricacies, people ended up dying over it.

It ended up happening out of nowhere, after another stupid fight with some stupid baddie that thought it would be fun to try jumping in on the whole ‘torture Derek Hale’ bandwagon. Stiles was going to start a fucking campaign to try and stop the trend, he swore. Derek was banged up and bloody when they found him in an abandoned saw mill, but other than that he seemed okay.

Stiles rolled his jaw in anger at the closed off expression Derek had on his face the whole way back to the loft, wishing they could have just one incident that didn’t involve Derek being tied up and hurt. He escorted Derek up to the loft even after he insisted he was fine, pausing at the doorway before swooping in and just folding his arms around Derek like the guy desperately needed.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

Derek questioned, going still against Stiles immediately and Stiles couldn’t help but bark out a sardonic laugh.

“I’m hugging you, dude. And I’m not letting go until your arms do the same thing, so make with the hugging.” 

He said, squeezing Derek tight and pressing his face against the hard line of his shoulder. Derek’s arms didn’t move at first, but after he heaved out a put-upon sigh, they reluctantly went up to curl loosely around Stiles in return and… Well, it was really awkward, actually. A lot more than he imagined it to be and he ended up rambling, “Yeah, see? Huggie- hugs are-“ He interrupted himself before he said anything else stupid, mumbling, “Okay, yeah, not such a great idea.” Before going to push away from Derek, but when he went to break away from him, his arms tightened around Stiles.

He craned his neck to try and glimpse Derek’s expression, unsure about what he was doing until he caught sight of his face. He looked worn down, brows tipped up like he was in pain and mouth a thin line that spoke plainly of distress.

“Oh. Yeah, okay,” Stiles said, able to see that Derek needed this even if he wouldn’t dare say it out loud. He slipped his arms back around Derek again, twisting his hands together tightly against the space between Derek’s shoulder blades and just held, staying dutifully quiet when Derek sagged against him. His arms were wound tight enough around Stiles to make his ribs ache, but he wasn’t about to say anything about it, especially not when Derek tipped his head to the side and his nose brushed against Stiles’ neck before he was pulling in a deep breath.

They stayed like that until Derek was the one that pulled away, giving Stiles a look that he took as a silent thank you before limping over toward his bed. “You’re allowed to do that whenever, you know? We’ll even just chalk it up to it being in your nature, yeah?”

Derek rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the bed, refusing to move again so Stiles let himself out of the building.

He wasn’t sure how, but it became a thing after that night. It was like opening flood gates, Derek’s need for touch pouring out in waves after the first incident and Stiles found himself being pulled into hugs every time they were around each other. He didn’t mind because Derek actually gave awesome hugs that always left Stiles feeling brimmed with calm, and Derek seemed to be at least somewhat letting someone in so it was a win-win.

He didn’t tell anyone about it because it was just one of those things that he didn’t think others needed to be let in on, something private that just he and Derek had and that was okay with him. Derek only seemed willing to indulge when they were alone anyways. Stiles mostly found it cute.

On one occasion, Derek came to the school to ask Scott’s opinion on some business happening with the town and ended up finding Stiles first, pushing him into an empty room and dipping in to curl his arms around Stiles tightly before stalking away to find Scott.

There was a few more like that, where Derek would leave immediately after like he was embarrassed of needing the interaction, but Stiles retaliated by initiating the touches in return too. If they were hanging around the pack, he would follow Derek when he went to go find a drink or something along those lines, sneaking up behind him and tossing his arms around him for a few moments before heading back to rejoin the others. He would get a look from at least one of the others when they would catch Derek’s scent on him, but no one ever asked.

They stopped caring about hiding it after a while, and he wasn’t sure if that was a conscious decision or just born of accidentally embracing around the others before deciding ‘fuck it,’ and continuing to do so. They still never bothered to ask, so that was a plus.

During pack meetings, he would force Derek to sit beside him and he would wedge his feet up under his thigh or toss them across his lap, winding his arms around his neck and dropping his head onto his shoulder like it was second nature, Derek’s palm always warm against the small of his back.

The only comment he ever got in regards to it was Lydia, who curled her lip as she watched them like she did when she was thinking, before saying, “Cute,” and continuing to read from the magazine she had on her lap.

The only time he felt like he may have overstepped his boundaries was the day he just couldn’t handle the thought of going to school, so he went to the loft instead. He made a beeline straight for the bed Derek was fast asleep in, climbing up the mattress as he tossed his backpack to the floor and toed his shoes off before curling up to Derek and pulling one of his arms to curl over Stiles’ side. He thought it was much more preferable than school, burrowing into Derek’s warmth with a deep sigh and falling asleep, but when he woke up hours later, Derek was sitting up in bed staring at him like Stiles had stabbed him.

“What,” He asked, voice coming out in uneven pieces when he blinked his eyes open and saw the way he was being watched. His hand automatically went up to pet at his hair, knowing it was a mess before pushing to sit up with a yawn that sent him falling against Derek’s side where he stayed.

“What are you doing here?”

Derek asked, arm slowly slipping around Stiles’ waist. Stiles turned to press his face into the curve of Derek’s neck to hide his sensitive eyes from the sunlight filtering in through the windows, shrugging at the question.

“School was not an option today and I didn’t want to be home alone, so I came here. Should I not do that?”

Derek didn’t speak again for a minute, fingers periodically flexing against Stiles’ side before he finally answered, “It’s fine. Just, caught me off guard.”

Stiles took whatever chance he could get to leech more contact from Derek from then, possibly getting addicted to the feeling of his strong muscles pressed against him. Any time they had to walk somewhere, he would make grabby hands at Derek until he gave in and let Stiles climb up onto his back, Stiles’ arms going around his neck and staying there in a way he knew Derek secretly enjoyed. Sometimes he would show up at the loft late at night and slip under the blankets with Derek, nudging him until he let out a low rumble and pulled Stiles in close, practically draping himself over Stiles. He didn’t mind one bit, Derek’s weight pleasant as it anchored him down, or the way he tended to snuffle against Stiles’ cheek in his sleep.

It was just their thing, apparently, and neither of them seemed bothered by the whole thing. He woke up in Derek’s bed one morning, just like all the other times he stayed over, rolling around in the sheets for a while as he woke up before making his way to the kitchen where he could smell coffee.

Derek was at the stove cooking, tossing a small glance toward Stiles. He made himself a cup of coffee and sipped at it for a bit before stumbling around the table to lean himself against Derek’s back, rubbing his face against his shoulders before his arms started to close in around Derek, but before they could he was turning around to face Stiles.

Stiles expected a hug, but Derek’s lips found his instead and he let out a startled noise before pressing into it, realizing just how badly he’d wanted it without even realizing now that he was getting it. Derek’s lips were gentle, touching Stiles’ like he wasn’t certain he was doing the right thing but Stiles pressed into it with a shaking inhale as his hands slipped up to hold Derek there. Derek’s hands slipped up to fit over Stiles’ hips, thumbs just brushing up under the hem of his shirt to stroke at the skin there and Stiles shivered.

Derek pulled back sooner than Stiles liked, breath uncoordinated as he pressed their foreheads together and looked at Stiles like he was waiting for something. “That was okay?” He questioned, fingers still rubbing against Stiles’ hips in feather-soft touches that left his skin pebbling up.

“Depends. Are you going to regret it and swear you didn’t mean for it to happen later on?” He shot back, watching the way Derek’s lashes fluttered like he was fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He answered with a simple ‘No,’ that had Stiles letting out a sigh he didn’t know was building up.

“Okay. Then that was great.”

He answered, scraping his fingers lightly through Derek’s messy hair.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi at my [tumblr](http://www.larkspurleaf.tumblr.com)


End file.
